Then she flew off into the blue air, and I awoke.
“Only in the first hours of the night can I transform myself into a human being while the male dove is busy with the twelve dead.”
Then she suddenly vanished the dove was back and spoke slowly in a human voice. The little girl returned and tenderly placed her arms around my neck. I remained lost in thought, musing about what I had just experienced. She ran off with the children and played with them among the colonnades of the castle. Immediately, the dove was transformed into a little girl, about eight years of age, with golden blond hair. Gracefully, it came to rest on the table, and I signed to the children to be still so that they would not frighten away the pretty white bird. Suddenly a white bird descended, a small sea gull or a dove. My children were sitting at the table too. There I sat, looking out into the distance, for the loggia was set high up on the tower of a castle. It was made of green stone, like emerald. I was sitting on a gold Renaissance chair in front of me was a table of rare beauty. In the dream I found myself in a magnificent Italian loggia with pillars, a marble floor, and a marble balustrade. Then, around Christmas of 1912, I had a dream. ~Carl Jung, Memories Dreams and Reflections and The Red Book There was something whispering, something queer going on. It had to do with night, storms, and wind, and also with the darkness of the house. New Year’s Eve alone had something of the attractiveness of Christmas, but definitely took second place Advent had a quality about it that somehow did not fit in with the coming Christmas. The Christmas carol “This Is the Day That God Has Made” pleased me enormously.Īnd then in the evening, of course, came the Christmas tree.Ĭhristmas was the only Christian festival I could celebrate with fervor.Īll others left me cold.
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